


Say My Name

by EternalAegis



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:30:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalAegis/pseuds/EternalAegis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After ending up alone together on a dangerous mission Fitz and Ward are forced to face their greatest fears and emotions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awake

A loud knock pulled Leo Fitz from his sleep, the last clutches of his dream slipping away like water through his fingers.  It was dark in his cabin; he blinked his eyes rapidly trying to adjust. When they took off from France it was twilight, so Fitz figured they were still over the Atlantic.  

The knock sounded again, this time louder than before.

“Fitz? Are you awake?” Skye’s voice was slow and gritty, making her usually sharp words sound muddled and tired.  “Fitz… I know you’re awake now, come on, get up. I know it sucks.”

Fitz sighed and closed his eyes, fighting the urge to give in to the tendrils of sleep creeping their way into this head. 

“Go away…” He mumbled, the words running together. 

Another knock rang out from the door, much louder and sharper than the previous times.

“Get up. There’s a mission.” Melinda May sounded the way she always did: curt and annoyed.  Fitz knew there was no going back to sleep now, if she was knocking at his door it was for a reason.

“Fine fine, I’m getting up, jeez.” He grumbled and slid out of bed, almost forgetting to put on his pajamas as he left his cabin.

As soon as he opened the door Fitz immediately knew something was wrong.  All the lights were off except the emergency lights along the floor and ceiling, something that under normal circumstances would never happen.  The faint glow of a cell phone flash light illuminated part of the Lounge, revealing Skye and Jemma huddled next to each other on the couch.

“What’s going on?” He asked quietly, taking a seat in the chair across from Jemma.  May and Coulson were standing at the front of the Lounge, in their uniform and suit respectively.  If the situation weren’t so ominous he might have joked about that, but it didn’t seem right. 

“We’ll brief you once we’re all here.” Coulson said, his voice normal, which reassured Fitz a little bit. 

“I wonder what’s taking Ward so long, I knocked on his door a while ago…” Jemma sounded anxious, like she always did in tense situations.

“Are you sure he heard you?” May said, narrowing her eyes.

“I-I think so, he did mumble something at least, though I’m not quite sure what it-”

“I’m here I’m here, sorry.” Ward’s deep voice interrupted as he lumbered into the Lounge, standing between Fitz’s chair and Coulson.  His hair was sticking out in every direction, and he was only wearing a pair of loose fitting pajama pants.  Fitz felt his gaze get stuck on his tight, muscular chest for several seconds before hastily looking away.  Luckily Jemma and Skye were too busy ogling Ward to notice, and for a split second he could have sworn May was staring at him too.  But that was ridiculous, the only reason May would stare at Ward’s chest was if he happened to walk in front of where she was staring. Fitz pushed the thought away.

“Alright, good, we’re all here.” Coulson said, pausing for a second to look at Skye and Jemma expectantly.   They quickly looked away from Ward, Jemma turning slightly red.  “We have a mission, as I’m sure you’ve all guessed.  One that requires a great deal of stealth, hence the lights.” 

“A stealth mission? Why?” Skye asked, sounding too excited for her own good.

“Because if we’re discovered we’ll be shot down without a second thought.” May stated matter-of-factly.  Skye gulped.

“We’re heading to Labrador in northern Canada, we’ve gotten reports of a possible Chitauri artifact in the area.  We need to extract it before it falls into the wrong hands.”  Coulson said.

“Wrong hands? You mean… Centipede?” Jemma asked, her voice timid. Coulson shook his head.

“No.  We have intel that there’s a violent extremist group currently in the area; according to our agents on the ground this group believes that the Chitauri are our natural rulers and are trying to gather as many pieces of Chitauri technology as possible.”  Coulson said, checking his watch.

“And they’re operating out of… Labrador?” Ward asked, his eyebrows raised. Fitz laughed, causing May to look at him disapprovingly.

“We think they just moved into the area.  Romanoff and Barton recently shut down the group’s primary cell in Belarus.  They were thought to all be in custody, but it seems some escaped.”  Coulson said, waving his hand as if swatting a fly, “But that doesn’t matter.  What does matter is that we have a mission.”

“Understood.  So we land, take the artifact, and leave, all while undetected. Sounds easy.” Ward said, looking relieved.

“Not quite. “ Coulson responded, “The artifact is being held in some sort of vault.  The agent that was tracking them reported some sort of adaptive encryption software.  Skye, that’s where you come in.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” She said confidently.  This was just another mission to her, and she had grown to look forward to missions.  Fitz couldn’t help but smile at that, her eagerness was refreshing.

“That’s not all.  We have reason to believe the artifact is biological in nature.” May added.

“Biological?” All traces of anxiety were gone from Simmons’ voice.  “It’s alive?”

“Possibly. Regardless, we need you with us.” Coulson told her gently.  Simmons wasn’t used to going into the field, especially not for dangerous missions.  Fitz had no doubt he’d have to assuage her fears multiple times before they landed.

“We’re wheels-down in less than an hour.  Until then you should all rest, everyone needs to be alert for this mission.” May said.

Ward nodded, already mentally preparing for the mission.  “Alright.  Let me see a map of the area and I’ll begin planning our approach. At this time of year Labrador should be-”

“That won’t be necessary.” Coulson interrupted. “May and I will lead the mission, you’ll stay on the plane with Fitz.” 

Skye, Jemma, and Fitz all looked up surprised.  Ward usually led the field missions, May preferred to stay with the plane if possible. 

“Sir… may I ask why?” Ward was gritting his teeth.

“You may.   The fact is, May has twice as much experience as you in stealth ops, something we’ll need.” Coulson sounded unfazed, and May locked eyes with Ward.

“I understand sir, but I think my place is with you-” Ward was obviously holding back with his words, but Coulson cut him off.

“Tonight it isn’t.  You’ve barely had any rest the past twenty-four hours, in your state you’d be more of a risk than an asset.  May’s leading the mission.” Coulson’s voice was as calm as always, but firmness had taken ahold; everyone knew it was the final word.  After a brief moment May wordlessly left the Lounge in the direction of the cockpit, Coulson not far behind.  The four others sat in silence, exchanging looks of mixed emotions.

“I should put together a kit, I won’t know what I need until I’m there.”  Jemma said eventually, getting to her feet.

“I’ll help.” Skye said, jumping up to follow.

“I’m not sure how much help you’ll be, but I appreciate the company.” Jemma's voice trailed away as she and Skye made their way towards the lab, taking the light from the cell phone with them.

It was almost completely dark in the Lounge now; only the dull glow of the sparse emergency lights and the pale shine of the stars outside the window illuminated the room.  Fitz placed his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair.  His heart was racing and he finally let himself take a deep breath. Ever since his mission with Ward to South Ossetia he had been wary of stealth missions.

“What’s wrong with you Fitz?” He muttered to himself, “It’s just a stealth op, you’ll be fine. After all, if they catch us they’re only going to shoot us out of the sky.”  The cabin suddenly seemed far too bright.  He sighed and rubbed his eyes. 

“Don’t worry Fitz, May knows what she’s doing.” Fitz jumped at the sound of Ward’s voice, he had forgotten he was still in the Lounge. He felt colour rise to his cheeks as he looked up to find Ward watching him, a slight crease between his brows.

“Right, yeah, I know she does.  I’m just being stupid.” Fitz forced a laugh.

The corner of Ward’s mouth began to rise, “It’s not stupid to be on guard.  It could save your life one day.”

“Oh well that’s reassuring.” Fitz muttered before he could think.  Ward opened his mouth but then closed it, looking cast down.  “Sorry, I’m just used to talking to Simmons you know, pretty much always actually, and that’s how we talk to each other, you know, sarcasm… I’ll shut up now.” 

His cheeks were on fire and he couldn’t bare to look at Ward, especially not in his… undressed state.  _Oh Fitz what’s wrong with you?_ He thought, _He probably thinks you’re the lamest human being ever let into S.H.I.E.L.D. now_.  _Just keep looking down until he leaves._  

But he didn’t have to.  After a brief moment, one that felt much longer than it was, Ward laughed.  It was a soft, throaty laugh that seemed to bubble up from inside him,  Fitz peeked up through his fingers; Ward was still looking at him, his eyes crinkled around the edges. Relief began to wash over Fitz and he offered a smile. Maybe he hadn’t stuck his foot in his mouth after all.

“Don’t change, Leo.” Ward said after a few more moments of laughing.  Startled, Fitz looked up at him; nobody called him Leo, not even Simmons.  He wasn’t sure how to respond to that, should he call him Grant now? Ward was technically his superior officer, calling him by his first name could get him in trouble.  But would continuing to call him Ward offend him?  It was times like these Fitz wished he could disappear into his lab and not come out until his expertise was needed; dealing with machines was much easier than dealing with humans.

After a long pause he opened mouth, trying to think of something to say.  “I- I’ll try not to…er,” he sputtered, looking up at the ceiling.

_Oh to hell with it._

“Grant.”

But Ward was already walking out of the Lounge, and it fell on deaf ears.


	2. Waiting

It was just past midnight when they landed in Labrador.  Due to a lack of airfields in the area they had to land on a dirt road in a small field of grass, completely surrounded by trees.   Up above the night sky was covered with stars; the nearest buildings were kilometers away, far enough that there was no light pollution. 

Under different circumstances Grant Ward might think it was beautiful, romantic even.

But he was on a mission; instead of a beautiful, wild landscape all he saw was an indefensible position surrounded by a thousand places for the enemy to hide.   His team was out there, somewhere in the night.  They had landed over an hour ago, but due to the cryptic nature of the intel there wasn’t an ETA for their return; and to make things worse a radio blackout had been ordered so they wouldn’t draw attention to themselves.  They were all in the dark, literally.

It killed him to not be with them.  His place was with his team; his place was in the field.   Not sitting on his hands defending the bus.   Coulson had told him he couldn’t go with them because he wasn’t rested enough, but if he thought Ward was going to rest for a second while the mission was running he was out of his mind; Ward’s stomach was in knots and his head was pounding. 

“How goes it out here?” Fitz’s voice startled him. Maybe he _was_ too tired to be on the mission.  Ward turned around in time to see Fitz walking slowly down the ramp towards him, his eyes darting around nervously.  He looked so vulnerable, like a rabbit in a lion’s den.

“Keep it down,” Ward hissed.  Fitz’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open, giving him a look akin to that of a kicked puppy; Ward immediately regretted his tone.  Sometimes he forgot that most of his team wasn’t used to being in the field like he was.

“I should stay inside anyway,” Fitz mumbled, taking a few steps back up the ramp.

Ward took a deep breath and closed his eyes, “It’s fine, you can stay out here, just be quiet.”

Fitz looked back at him, his mouth pursed in a fine line.  After a few moments he nodded and took up a spot standing next to him.  Neither said anything, their thoughts were far away with their teammates in the cold wilderness, and silence wrapped itself around them like a blanket. Not even the sound of insects penetrated the night; it was already too cold for them this far North.  The only sound they could hear was the faint rustle of the breeze scratching through the trees. It gave Ward the shivers.

Time seemed to stand still for the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, they could have been standing there for minutes or hours, neither knew for sure. 

It was finally Fitz who broke the silence with a gasp, causing Ward to jump.

“What is it?” He whispered urgently but calmly.

“I think I see…” Fitz trailed off and walked out from under the plane, staring up at the sky.

_Damn,_ the thought leaped into Ward’s head, _We’ve been spotted.  A plane has spotted us._  

Ward leaped after him.  “What are you doing!? Get back here!”

 He grabbed Fitz’s arm and started to pull him back to the plane, but Fitz unexpectedly wrenched it free.  Ward had to resist the urge to hit him across the back of his head and drag him back.

“No… _look,_ ” Fitz pointed up at the sky.   Expecting the worst, Ward did. 

He gasped. There was no plane or helicopter on the horizon, no trail of a missile locked on their location. What he saw was far more spectacular. 

The aurora borealis stretched across the night sky, painted in a dozen shades of green and fringed in soft lines of yellow and purple. 

“It’s beautiful,” Fitz said, his voice full of awe. 

Ward couldn’t help but nod in agreement; not even the tension of the mission could overshadow the stunning sight before him.

“It almost looks like waves on the ocean,” Fitz said softly.  Ward blinked and looked at it a bit harder, realizing Fitz was right.  The way the lights shimmered and rippled across the sky did resemble waves in a slow, haunting sort of way.  _Waves on a sea of stars_ he thought to himself, not wanting to sound too romantic to his teammate.

Fitz abruptly turned away from it, his eyes shadowed.  “It almost makes this damn mission worth it.”  His words were bitter, catching Ward off guard.  

He felt himself frown, “This mission has gotten to you hasn’t it? We’ve been in worse situations before, why is this one different?”

Several moments passed with no response, and Ward began to wonder if Fitz had heard him.  He opened his mouth to restate the question, but Fitz finally responded.

“It’s the not knowing, anything could have happened to them out there.  We usually have constant updates during a mission; it’s how those of us back on the plane know that our team is safe.  But this?” He gestured around him, “Just standing around admiring the sights while our team, our _friends_ are out there going up against who-knows-what and could even be _dead,_ and we wouldn’t even know.  It’s enough to drive anybody insane.”

Ward had to think of how he should respond, he didn’t want to admit it but Fitz had voiced his own thoughts as well. But he was the officer in charge, and he didn’t want to appear weak in front of his subordinate.

“There will be more times in the future when Simmons and Skye are on a mission and you’re not, you’ll have to adapt.”  He said to himself as much as Fitz.

“You think I’m only worried about Simmons and Skye?” Fitz’s snapped, “I’m worried about all of them. We’ve all been together for so long, living on the plane day after day, just the six of us.  You don’t think I care for all of you now?”

Ward closed his eyes and wanted to slap himself. “I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.  I just, well I thought that since you and Simmons are a thing that-”

“Simmons and I are a what?” Fitz interrupted, his voice cracking, “Oh no, oh no no no no no. Simmons and I are _not_ that, we’re just friends, like a brother and sister. Yeah, we’re just a friendly brother and sister, definitely not _that_. I’d never-  _we’d_ never.”

Fitz had turned bright red and he was waving his hands back and forth frantically, Ward couldn’t help but laugh.  He was glad the mood had lightened and decided to continue with it.  “Ok not you and Simmons then, but we’ve all seen how you look at Skye.”

“What!?” Fitz looked up at him wide-eyed, his face red, “Skye’s not, I mean she is but I’m not-”

Ward cut him off with a pat on the back, “It’s ok Fitz, she’s attractive, I don’t think anybody could fault you for admitting it.”

Fitz drew his head back slightly and lowered his gaze.  “She is attractive…” He admitted, sounding reluctant, “But she’s not what I fancy.”

“Ahh, so May then!” Ward was laughing now, but Fitz wasn’t. 

Several seconds passed with no response before the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. _Grant you idiot, he likes guys._ It took all of Ward’s willpower not to smack himself on the forehead. _You just had to keep talking didn’t you?_

“Oh.” _Dammit, dammit all to hell,_ “I didn’t mean to be insensitive.” Ward tried to catch his eye but Fitz was intently looking back at the aurora. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Fitz’s voice was dismissive, his gaze fixed upwards. 

Ward bit his lip.  He felt like he should say something, it didn’t seem right for the conversation to end like that.  Fitz probably thought that it was a big deal to him when it really wasn’t.  Hell, Ward would be the first to admit he was attracted to guys from time to time.  No, that wasn’t the problem; the problem was that he had stuck his foot in his mouth when he should have been supportive. But now it was too late, the topic seemed to make Fitz uncomfortable, so he instead placed a hand on Fitz’s shoulder.  Fitz immediately tensed up, and it took all of Ward’s self-control not to sigh in defeat.  He lowered his arm and turned back to the aurora, wishing things could have gone differently.

They were standing close together now, their arms brushing against each other.  It was a light touch; just barely enough to make Ward’s skin tingle.  He wondered if he should take a step away, but he didn’t want to be the first to do anything, not after a night of faux pas after faux pas.  So he just stood there, trying to ignore his ever-quickening heart rate as he waited for Fitz to make the first move.

Long, silent minutes crawled by, and his neck and back were beginning to ache from staring up at the sky for so long; he began to think he’d have to be the one to turn away after all.  Just when he was about to relent to the growing pain in his left shoulder and go back under the plane he felt something on his hand.  It was the faintest of touches, barely more than a brush on his palm, so quick he wasn’t sure he hadn’t imagined it.

A few seconds later he felt it again; Fitz’s fingers softly grazing the side of his knuckle.  Shivers of pleasure raced up his spine, and he turned his head to look at Fitz.  Fitz blinked, but kept his gaze locked on the aurora, his mouth pressed in a firm line.  Ward couldn’t help but smile; Fitz was trying very hard not to look at him. 

For the first time since the mission started Ward knew exactly what to do.  He let the tips of his fingers slowly brush against the back of Fitz’s fingers, running the full length of them.  Fitz’s hand turned to meet his and they slid effortlessly into each other, their fingers intertwining.   Although neither looked at each other, he could sense Fitz’s body relaxing.  Ward felt the tension rush from his body as well; he hoped this meant Fitz had forgiven him for the way he’d handled their conversation.  Almost as if he could read his thoughts Fitz gave his hand a light squeeze, and Ward sighed in relief.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in such a perfect moment.  Far away in an isolated, beautiful corner of the world with the aurora shining down on him from above, holding the hand of a brilliant and handsome man.  It was enough to make him forget about the danger they were in, and the dangers his team was dealing with as they stood there, if only for a moment.

But, as always, the moment was short lived.

Fitz cocked his head to the left, his grip loosening.  “Do you hear that?” 

Ward froze, listening as intently as possible for any new sounds that had joined them in the clearing, but all he heard were the familiar clawing of the wind on the trees that surrounded them. 

“I don’t h-”

Fitz waved his hand in a slicing motion and Ward stopped, straining to hear anything through the sound of blood pounding in his ears.  He was just about to ask what it was when he heard it, the faint crackle of static from radio.  His heart stopped and his stomach clenched, they all had strict orders for radio silence while on the mission; not only would breaking the silence alert their enemies to them, it would mean something had gone wrong.  Terribly wrong.  Fitz’s grip on his hand tightened and Ward closed his eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t hear it again. 

Seconds of silence crawled by.  _One.  Two.  Three._ Counting them was the only thing that kept him from ripping his hair out; his grip in Fitz’s hand was so tight that his hand had gone numb.  But neither he nor Fitz dared to move for fear of missing the sound if it came back. 

_Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty._   Ward finally allowed himself to breathe.  Twenty seemed like a good number to feel relieved at. 

“It was probably just something wrong with the radio.” He finally broke the silence, trying to convince himself more than Fitz.  But the corner of Fitz’s mouth pulled into that sad smile, and he knew it was wishful thinking. 

Sure enough, the crackling interference echoed out again.  Ward barely felt his legs move as he and Fitz walked back to the bottom of the plane, their hands still in a forgotten clasp.

“Ward? Ward? Please acknowledge.” Skye’s voice was barely audible, the static was deafening. 

Taking a deep breath he grabbed the radio,  “Skye this is Ward, do you copy?”

Several seconds passed before they heard a response. 

“We have a problem.”

Fitz took in a sharp breath of air and brought both of his hands up to his face.  Ward knew he should feel worried, that he should begin mentally preparing for what was yet to come. But all he could feel was the emptiness where Fitz’s hand had been interlocked with his.  


	3. Orders

“We have a problem.”

The words seemed to hang in the air, ringing in Fitz’s ears. He brought his hands up to his face and closed his eyes, trying to keep control over the emotions bubbling up inside him. 

_A problem, why is there always a problem?_

Images of his mission in South Ossetia raced through his head; the memories of being tied to a chair, of having to hide in a drainpipe while they were being hunted, of watching Ward in danger, still hadn’t healed since his mission.  Only this time it was his team that was in danger, and he wasn’t sure which was worse. Simmons and Skye weren’t used to being in dangerous situations like this, but least they had Coulson and May with them.

_Ward._ _At least he isn’t out there._  

He knew he should feel guilty for the thought. They were his friends, his family, and if they were in any sort of danger they would be better off having Ward with them. Fitz was in no immediate danger by the plane: what use did Ward serve being stuck here with him, other than to confuse his emotions even more?

“Copy that, Skye.” Ward’s stiff voice shook him back to reality.  Fitz lowered his hands and clenched them into fists.

“It was a trap. We’re on our way back to the bus now, ETA one hour.”

_“_ One hour? They must have had to go further than we anticipated.” Ward muttered before holding down the ‘talk’ button, “Understood, we’ll begin flight prep-” The growl of static cut him off.

“Ward, we’re being pursued. We’re coming in hot.” May’s sharp tone was barely audible through the growing static. 

Fitz’s heart skipped a beat. “Pursued? What does she mean, are they being shot-” Ward silenced him by holding up a finger.  

“We need Fitz to modify drones…” the static washed May’s voice out entirely.  Ward flashed Fitz an annoyed look, one he hoped was directed at the situation and not blaming him for the problems with the technology.  

“May, repeat that last.  We’re getting considerable interference on our end.”

It was several seconds before her voice cut through the static, “It’s on our side too, they’re using a jamming device. Fitz needs to modify the decoy drones to copy the transponder signal of the bus, it’s the only way we’ll be able to make it off the ground.”

Ward looked to Fitz expectantly. He was trying to piece together what he’d need to do to accomplish the task, but his mind was slow. The thoughts and connections between thoughts weren’t coming as quickly as they should have been.  It was the difference between jogging and walking, when he needed to be sprinting.  He closed his eyes and willed his S.H.I.E.L.D. training to kick in and take over.

When he opened them Ward’s gaze was still locked on him, a crease of concern forming on his brow. 

He nodded hesitantly, still piecing together a plan. It would be close; there was no doubt about that.  But what choice did he have?  It was either complete the job, or fail the mission. And from the sounds of it failing the mission meant one thing: death.

“I’ll get right on it.”

“Good.”  It was Coulson speaking now. “Go get started, I have special instructions for Ward.”

Fitz looked at the radio and then to Ward, who gave him a weak smile of assurance.  Despite still bursting with questions he knew he had no choice but to go back inside. Whatever Coulson was about to tell Ward was most likely above his security level, and even though in a situation like this having more information might mean being able to better help his team, he had to trust the system.

Reluctantly he made his way back to the lab, wishing he could hear what these “special instructions” were.  He was turning on the emergency lights outside the lab when the static resumed and Coulson’s voice sounded behind him.

“Are you alone?”

He froze, desperately fighting the urge to turn around.  The back of his neck began to tingle, and he could practically feel Ward’s stare bearing holes into his back.  

_If it were something you needed to know, you’d know.  Trust the system_. _Trust the system._

But no matter how many times he repeated the phrase it still didn’t help, and he sighed in defeat.

_Bloody hell, it’s like I’m talking to Skye_. 

Taking a deep breath he stepped through the door and closed it behind him.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reprogramming a drone was no small task.  Typically it would take him hours to make the proper calculations, but he didn’t have hours, he had minutes.  The drones were only designed to mimic other missiles, not an object the size of the bus. It would take every drone they had launched in perfect timing to even come close to achieving what Coulson wanted.

He had been working on the launch synchronization protocol for several minutes when the door to the lab abruptly slid open, causing him to jump.

“It’s just me, didn’t mean to startle you.” Ward came over next to him, eyeing the jumbled mess of parts and wires strewn across the table. “How’s it going?”

Fitz turned his gaze back to the work in front of him.  “It’ll be close but I think I can manage, I just need to rewire the activation sequence to-”

“I believe you Fitz,” Ward cut him off. “How much longer until the modifications are complete?”

“Shouldn’t be too long now,” He said slowly, wrestling with a particularly tight screw.

“Good.” Ward paused, the way he would when he knew he was about to say something that wouldn’t want to be heard. “Until then I’m going to patrol the perimeter, just stay in the bus and keep working until I’m back.”

Fitz set down the part he was working on and looked up at Ward, but he immediately looked away, his mouth pressed in a firm line.  It was a small thing, but it was enough to make Fitz’s heart quicken.

“Why? Is there a problem?” He kept his eyes fixed on Ward, trying to meet his gaze.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Ward snapped in response, causing him to flinch and look away.  Neither of them said anything, and Fitz shoved drone parts around aimlessly in an attempt to appear productive.  When it became obvious that he wasn’t going to get a response Ward sighed and moved closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Fitz…” The word was tinged with regret, and it only made him feel more uncomfortable.   “Just stay inside and focus on the drones, okay?” 

He nodded, trying his best to keep from looking up.  But Ward moved his hand from his shoulder and placed it under his chin, tilting his head up so that their faces were only centimeters apart and their eyes had no choice but to meet. Fitz’s breath caught in his throat, he had never been this close to Ward before.  Hell, he hadn’t been this close to anybody- at least not in a non-combat situation- in years. 

Ward’s arm snaked around Fitz’s back and pulled him into a tight embrace. Due to their height difference he had almost no choice but to lay his head against Ward’s chest, not that he was complaining.  He closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down and focus, but all he could think about was the way he could feel the steady beat of Ward’s heart through his chest, and the way he smelled like a mixture of pine and rain.

After what only seemed like seconds Ward began to pull away and he had to bite back a whimper of protest.  He looked back into Ward’s eyes, expecting him to say something warm and encouraging. But his gaze was hard and focused, all traces of warmth gone.

“I think, uh…” He trailed off, not sure where he was going with the sentence.

Ward waited for a moment, biting his lip in impatience, and when Fitz didn’t follow up with anything else he turned to go back outside.

Fitz’s hands trembled as he picked up a drone part, trying to get back to work, but his mind felt as though it was full of fog. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ward stop in the doorway, standing rigidly.

“Do you have a gun on you?” He didn’t turn around.  Fitz felt his stomach drop and the drone part he was fumbling with slipped out of his hand, crashing loudly on the table.

“I’ll get one.” He replied, and Ward started to close the door. “But you’ll be around, right? I won’t be needing it.”

For a split second Ward paused, then wordlessly he closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give a quick thank you to my beta, the wonderful and talented Shieldivarius. You're the best!


	4. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait between chapters! I've finished the rest of the story, I'm just editing the last two chapters now, so there shouldn't be any more waits.

Ward watched as Fitz slowly made his way back into the lab. He paused at the door, pretending to fumble with the lock, and Ward couldn’t help but smile. That Fitz would think his stalling tactic could work against an agent as experienced as he made him seem even more innocent.

“Are you alone?” Coulson’s voice crackled out from the radio.  Fitz tensed at the door and stopped moving.  Ward sighed, hoping he wouldn’t have to give him a nudge. Surely he didn’t think Ward would continue communications with Coulson while he was still outside.

Thankfully, after spending much too long at the door, Fitz went inside.

“I’m alone, sir.”

“We’ve lost the artifact.” Coulson said abruptly. “It appears that they were tipped off about our presence here, and were able to evacuate the artifact in time.”

Ward nodded slowly, processing the information. Although he was curious how they knew about S.H.I.E.L.D.’s arrival, he knew this was neither the place nor the time to ask questions.  Until the mission was over and they were safe he would only be given information critical to the mission success, and that was exactly how he liked it.

“Is the artifact still in the area?” He asked calmly.

“We believe so.” Coulson paused as static threatened to drown him out, then resumed once it cleared. “May had a little chat with one of the stragglers, and they were kind enough to give us the location of the artifact’s extraction.”

He grimaced; being on the receiving end of one of May’s “chats” was more than a little unpleasant.

“What are my orders, sir?”

“We are sending you the coordinates of the extraction.  You are to proceed to them and retrieve the artifact immediately.”  Coulson’s voice was firm, like he was bracing himself.  It made Ward uneasy.

“Understood,” He began, piecing together a plan in his head, “Fitz and I will-”

“No.  Your orders do not include Fitz.”

He opened his mouth to respond but paused as realization dawned on him.

_Coulson wants me to leave Fitz._

“Sir, you can’t possibly mean for me to leave Fitz here alone.”

“I assure you, I do.”  Coulson’s voice was calm and steady, a trait Ward usually admired in him but presently found frustrating.

“But sir-”

“You are to complete the mission at all costs, do you understand?” Coulson interrupted, “It is imperative that the artifact is found before it can be put to use.”

Ward closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. “Acknowledged.”

“Once you have acquired the artifact you are to rendezvous with us back at the bus.  We will wait two hours for you, if you haven’t returned by then you’re on your own.”

“Sir…” He grumbled, “With all due respect, I strongly object to these orders.”

“Noted.” Coulson said quickly, “Any further questions?”

Ward clenched his fists, doing his best to stay calm. “No sir.”

“Good. Coulson out.” The speaker clicked as the communications ended, and Ward sighed loudly.  He knew what he had to do next, and he didn’t like it one bit.

As he dragged himself up the ramp to the laboratory door he considered leaving without telling Fitz. Maybe he could be back before Fitz ever noticed he was gone.  But then again, if the bus was attacked while he was away Fitz would have no clue what was happening. 

When he got to the lab door he sighed again, wishing circumstances were different.

_But they’re not_. He told himself firmly, and steeling himself for what was sure to be a painful conversation he opened the door.

 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The door clicked shut, and Ward leaned against it with a resigned groan. He knew he should have lied and told Fitz that his orders were to stay and guard the plane, but he didn’t have it in him. It bothered him not being able to tell Fitz the truth.  Not that he enjoyed lying to any member of his team, but this lie was particularly painful. He knew it shouldn’t be, he knew he shouldn’t have stronger feelings for one member of his team than the others, but he did.

With a grunt of frustration he kicked a nearby rock, sending it skittering across the field. 

It wasn’t right.  He wanted to tell himself that no mission was more important than the team, but he knew it was wrong.  Sometimes the success of a mission _was_ more important than an individual’s life, or even a group of individuals’. If one person’s death saved thousands of lives later, wouldn’t it be worth it? 

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. Questions like this were why he wasn’t in charge of a team; this was why he preferred to work alone, or at least used to. 

He wasn’t sure which was worse: being the reason the mission failed and possibly being court martialed, or the thought of Fitz being left alone in the dark, both figuratively and literally. Neither option was one he wanted to be responsible for; neither was one he felt like he could live with.

If it were any other member of his team he was ordered to leave behind, he might have been able to assuage his concerns. But there was something about leaving Fitz alone that made him feel like he had been punched in the stomach. Fitz reminded him of a puppy, or maybe an orphan; an orphan puppy, perhaps. 

“What is _wrong_ with you?” He muttered to himself. 

He knew the answer to that, and it had something to do with the memory of his arms pulling Fitz against him, their lips only inches apart. 

“The sooner it’s done the sooner I can get back to Fitz,” He told himself, “Just… get it over with.”

Without waiting for his mind to have a chance to protest he started across the field towards the forest. The coordinates he had been given were to a shallow valley in the forest several miles from his location. A dirt road supposedly ran through it, and it eventually connected to a bigger road, where the artifact would then be out of their reach.  His job was to intercept it before that happened.

Once he was safely hidden in the under-brush he stopped and stared back at the bus.  It almost looked lonely; sitting in the field, surrounded by forest and the aurora up above.  If he didn’t already know better he’d think it was abandoned.  But he did know better, and it wasn’t abandoned.  Fitz was inside, all by himself.  And to make things worse, he didn’t know he was by himself, he thought Ward was out protecting him when he was actually abandoning him, leaving him to the wolves.   Ward shuddered at the thought, and turned away.

Progress through the forest was slow. Underneath the cover of the trees it was nearly pitch black, and the forest floor was anything but level. It didn’t help that every few steps he felt compelled to turn around and strain to hear if there was any commotion from the direction of the bus. But each time he did only silence greeted him, and he had no choice but to press on. He knew he should stop it, even if he did hear something from the bus he wouldn’t be able to go back, Coulson gave him very specific orders. 

He had only been hiking for twenty minutes when he heard a faint noise in the distance and froze, crouching behind a tree. The soft twitter of voices echoed through the forest.  They were faint, whoever was talking was trying to be discreet; but the forest was large and empty, and sound bounced through it like a theatre. 

Ward strained to try and decipher some of what they were saying, but to no avail.  The echoes of the whispers were bouncing over each other, creating layers of sound that started to play tricks with his head. 

He moved further towards the voices, crouching as low as possible to the forest floor.  Far ahead was the dull glow of artificial lights of some kind, and as he got closer he could make out the outlines of at least four parked vehicles.

His hand slid down to his gun and slowly eased it out of the holster.  With the way sound carried in the darkness he knew he had to be as slow and steady as possible, or risk being detected.  He began moving from tree to tree, trying to find the best location to deal with them from.

As he got closer to the vehicles the ground started to slope downward, making it even more difficult for him to move discreetly.  Several meters further down the hill was a downed tree, it gave as good a view as he could hope for of the valley and the vehicles at its bottom.  He began moving towards it when he felt the world around him spin.

His foot caught on something and he toppled forward, grunting despite his best efforts.  Even before he heard the reactions he knew he would be discovered. The sound of him crashing to the ground seemed to boom through the undergrowth.

“Shh!”  The first voice hissed out through the darkness.

“What?” Snapped the second voice, albeit softer than before.

“Something. Over there,” Replied the first, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

Ward cursed silently to himself and closed his eyes as the sound of feet crunching on pine needles filled the clearing. Time seemed to crawl as they progressed towards him, but he knew that was only an illusion, his body reacting to his hyper-alert state.

“Are you sure there’s something here?” One of them asked, his voice just a breath on the wind. 

His partner grunted in response. They shuffled around a bit more, sounding like they were trying to dig a hole, and then they stood there in silence.

They stood there for so long that Ward began to wonder if he had made the whole thing up.  Right as he was about to risk a look over the tree he heard their steps resume, this time growing fainter. 

This was his chance.  He wouldn’t have the upper hand like this again.

After taking three deep breaths he sprung into action, pulling himself on top of the downed tree and leaping for the patrol.  Luckily, they were still within his range, and by the time they began to turn around Ward was crashing down on them, knocking both to the ground.  He didn’t hesitate even for a second; he punched one in the throat, his victim’s hands immediately flying up in panic.  He turned to the other, who was climbing to his feet, and brought the hilt of his gun down as hard as he could on the back of his head. His body crumpled to the ground in an unmoving slump.

Ward began to turn back to the first man when his arm erupted in pain, and the echo of a gunshot rang through the forest. His instinct was to grasp where he had been shot and call out in agony, but his training taught him better.  He poured every ounce of effort he had into his concentration and looked for the first man he hit. 

It appeared he had recovered, at least slightly, and was now trying to crawl away towards the lights. Ward forced his legs to carry his body to him, and swung his foot into the man’s stomach, causing him to roll over in pain.  Without waiting Ward’s hands flew to his throat, tightening until the body stopped moving.

By now there were more gunshots echoing in the night, but none were hitting their target.  Looking up, Ward saw dozens of beams of flashlights bouncing as their wielders charged through the trees, and he began to realize he was vastly out numbered.

Ignoring the searing pain in his arm he stumbled as fast as he could back in the direction of the bus, eventually stopping against a tree to catch his breath.  The pain in his arm had dulled to a steady throb, but he knew it was only temporary. As soon as he was out of combat his body would calm down, and then the pain would really begin.  Preparing for the worst, he pulled his arm in front of him and tried his best to inspect the wound. It appeared to be just a graze, though a deep one.  Still, he counted himself lucky. 

The tree bark next to him exploded as a gun was fired, and a second later the tree to his left did the same. Crouching down, he risked a look around the tree.

He stared in horror at the scene unfolding before him.  It seemed that from behind every tree came the flash of gunfire.  There had to be dozens of them. He took a deep breath, willing his training to come back to him. 

_Ignore the pain, it’s nothing serious._ He told himself, wishing his body would listen.

He swung out behind the tree and fired at one of the lights, feeling a small rush of satisfaction when it toppled to the ground. Almost instantly the ground around him erupted in gunfire, and he pulled himself into as small a position as possible.  When the shots began to slow he swung out again, and again, each time eliminating another threat. 

It didn’t take too long for the lights to begin to spread apart, moving towards him in the periphery of his range.

_Damn_.

He waited again for a pause in the gunshots, but this time instead of swinging out and firing he turned and sprinted in the direction of the bus.  Pain surged through his body, and it took all his training to keep from collapsing to the ground.

When he had run far enough that the gunshots stopped he paused, leaning against a nearby tree to catch his breath. He knew he didn’t have long, but he also knew if he didn’t give his body some sort of break it would shut down, and then he’d be done for. 

The sound of a stick snapping immediately cleared his mind.  Somebody was moving towards him, only several meters away.  He dropped back into a defensive crouch and listened as they moved closer to him, until they were right on the other side of a thicket. Staying low he rushed towards them and shot the crouching form in the stomach. The body doubled over in pain and fell to the ground. 

He started to leave, but something caught his eye on the body of the downed man.  A slim frame, a head of dark curls, a soft, scared face.

It took only a second for him to register what he had done.

“No,” He breathed to himself.

“Fitz?”

 


	5. Perseverance

Time seemed to crawl after Ward’s warning. Every little sound caused Fitz to jump, and more than once he grabbed his gun to make sure it was loaded.

Naturally, this meant his progress on the modifications had slowed to a snail’s pace.  Of course, there was another thought distracting him from his work as well: a thought of strong arms pulling him close, of leaning his head against a firm chest and smelling in the subtle scent of pine.

Despite himself, Fitz grinned. He’d never seen Ward hug anybody like that before, and just thinking about it filled him with a warm, tingly feeling. Although the memory of the embrace was a distracting one, it also served as the strongest motivation he had. Finishing his task meant seeing Ward again, and the very thought made his heart flutter.  He sat on the nearest chair and let his mind wander; imagining the variety of ways the scene could play out.

After several moments he was interrupted by a faint sound, barely audible inside the bus.

He froze, straining to hear. Somewhere, very far away, was the popping sound of gunshots.  He immediately grabbed his pistol, barely able to keep his hands steady enough to hold it.  The gunshots continued on for a minute before stopping.  He held his breath, not daring to let his guard down.

A minute later there were more gunshots, and Fitz felt his heart sink. Whatever was going on didn’t sound like it was ending any time soon.

Tentatively he opened the door to the lab, and inched his way out of the plane.  His eyes jumped back and forth across the surrounding field, looking for any signs of movement, but there was only the swaying of the grass and the shimmering aurora above.

More gunshots cracked out from the forest behind him, causing him to jump. They were much louder now, as if they were right inside the forest’s edge.

A feeling of dread fell over him as he realized the gunfire was coming from the opposite direction of the road, meaning it couldn’t be Coulson or the others.  It could only be one person.

_Ward is in trouble._

He contemplated using the radio to ask Coulson for help, but thought better of it.  There was no telling where they were, and calling them could bring unwanted attention to their location. 

But he also knew he couldn’t leave Ward alone. He could barely keep track of how many different gunshots there were now, but from the sound of it Ward was vastly outnumbered. Without his help Ward could be hurt.

Or worse.

Nervously, he began to trudge through the grass in the direction of the gunfire.  The woods rose in front of him, dark and menacing. Up above the aurora was beginning to fade, and Fitz couldn’t help but take that as a bad sign.

He paused when he reached the tree line. The sound of gunfire continued in front of him, no more than a kilometer away from the sound of it. But now he could hear voices, shouts mixed in with the harsh sounds of combat.  He strained his ears, trying to make out Ward’s voice among them, but it was impossible.  At this distance they all sounded the same: loud, angry, and dangerous.

Taking one last breath he stepped across the threshold in to the forest.

Despite the great amount of noise coming from ahead, he was sure that the loud cracking his footsteps made on the pine-laden forest floor would call out to them. 

_Hey, easy prey over this way!_

A shiver raced down his spine, and he tightened his grip on the gun. 

The closer he grew to the commotion the more his instincts screamed out for him to turn around and run back to the bus. There was a time, not so long ago, that he would have listened to them. Nobody expected him to fight; nobody would blame him for sitting on his hands and hoping for the best.

But that was before he met Ward. That was before he had something he feared losing more than his own life.

His foot caught on a stick and he fell gracelessly onto his knees behind a large tree. Thankfully the ground was soft enough that it didn’t hurt his knees; still, it startled him more than he wanted to admit.

He placed his hand on the side of the tree and began to stand.  But before he made it up there was a rush of movement in the shadows ahead of him, and the next thing he knew he was crashing back to the ground. He landed on his back with the wind knocked out of him; it felt like somebody punched him in the stomach. He rolled onto his side, gasping for breath.  Pain began to blossom in his abdomen and curl out through his body in tendrils.

The shape, which he realized was a person, began to turn away.  They stopped, however, and looked back at him.

“Fitz?”  They asked. 

Somewhere in the far reaches of his mind he knew that should have been impossible.  How could this person know who he was?

_Unless it’s…_

Before the thought could reach completion it slipped away into the darkness that was engulfing him.

“Fitz!” The voice called, more urgently this time.  Although he was now looking straight at the figure calling his name, he couldn’t make sense of the image.  It was like looking at a mirror at the bottom of a fast-moving river. 

“What?” He replied, the words slurring out of him like mud. 

“Oh god, Fitz.” 

Hands grabbed his shoulders, gently but firmly. The voice’s face moved inches away from his, and it began to come into focus.

“Ward?” Fitz asked, genuinely unable to tell who it was.

The man made a choking noise and looked away, biting his lip. “Fitz, I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

That didn’t answer his question, but he was beginning to be able to answer it himself.

“What’s going on?” His words slid out of him in a stream.

There was a long pause before Ward replied. “You’ve been shot.”

That didn’t sound right to Fitz, who would have shot him? But it did explain why breathing had become such a difficulty, so maybe Ward knew what he was talking about.

“Oh.” He replied. Ward looked at him with the same stern expression for several moments longer before cracking.

“It was my fault, I didn’t know it was you until it was too late.” He crouched down in front of Fitz, his eyes wide and watery.

Strangely, Fitz found that he didn’t mind. It was as if he was detached from his body and was watching somebody else instead.  Summoning an enormous amount of effort he reached up and ran his fingers down Ward’s unshaven cheek.

“Don’t worry about me, Ward.” He held on to the concentration he had managed to take hold of, he would need it to make it through what was to come. Ward looked at him and bit his lip, as if he didn’t quite believe that the matter would be dropped that quickly, but said nothing.

“What happened out here? What were you doing?” Fitz continued. 

Ward chewed his lip and looked away. The memory of Coulson’s orders came drifting back to Fitz, but it seemed like it occurred years ago instead of only an hour or two. 

“I guess it doesn’t matter if you know now.” Ward finally said, his fingers playing with a loose string on his shirt. “I was ordered to recover the artifact; to intercept it on a road not too far from here.”

He looked at Fitz expectantly, though Fitz wasn’t sure why. He knew there had to be many more details he was missing, but they seemed irrelevant.

“And you ran into-“ Fitz gestured in the direction the gunfire had been coming from. “-trouble?”

Ward nodded, and for the first time Fitz noticed blood streaming down his sweaty, muscular arm.  Ward followed his gaze and quickly wiped away as much as he could.

“It was nothing, just a graze.” He maneuvered his arm so Fitz could no longer see the wound. “What you have, however, isn’t.”

He fixed his gaze on Fitz’s stomach, and Fitz let his eyes follow.  His shirt was completely drenched in blood, originating from a small hole just by his belly button.

“Nothing Simmons can’t patch up.” He said absently.

Ward scoffed but said nothing. He kept looking nervously in the direction of the gunfire.

“I have to get you back to the bus.” He said eventually. Without waiting for an answer he reached his arms around Fitz.

“But,” Fitz protested as Ward began to lift him up, “What about your mission?”

Ward pointedly avoided his gaze, “The mission will be fine.”

Fitz studied his face, searching for signs that he was lying.

“You need medical attention too, though.” He pointed out. 

Ward shook his head, and began leading them in the direction Fitz had come.  “I’ll be fine, it’s just a scratch.”

“Scratch?” Fitz exclaimed, “Being grazed by a bullet is hardly a _scratch_.”

Ward snorted, but said nothing. Fitz sighed and focused on keeping himself upright. He knew there was no point in arguing with him, he’d never abandon his duty. 

They had been moving for only a couple of minutes when Ward slowed to a stop.  He looked around anxiously, straining to hear.  Blood was pounding so heavily in Fitz’s ears that he didn’t bother trying to listen. Besides, even if he could, Ward would be able to identify a threat better than he. 

A few seconds later Ward went rigid, and Fitz could barely make out the sound of a gun firing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ward cursed, before springing into action.  He scooped Fitz up into his arms and began sprinting back in the opposite direction. More bullets whizzed by them, and Fitz began to be able to hear shouts in the distance.  He closed his eyes and leaned his head against Ward’s chest, trying to block it all out.

It was impossible to tell how long they ran like that, with Fitz curled up in Ward’s arms, but eventually the voices and gunfire faded away into the distance.  After that Ward slowed to a walk, breathing heavily, but still refusing to let Fitz move on his own.

They eventually stumbled out onto a road, if it could even be called that.  It was barely big enough for the two men to walk side-by-side, let alone room for a vehicle. Still, walking on the path was much easier than walking through the undergrowth, and Ward decided Fitz could finally be trusted to walk with only Ward’s arm around him for support. 

It felt like hours passed as they shuffled down the path, and yet the forest showed no signs of an end. Neither had spoken since they started running, and Fitz was beginning to notice sweat trickling down Ward’s neck. It seemed it was taking more effort than he was letting on to support Fitz like he was.  Guilt began to knot in his stomach and he tried his best to ignore it.

“I think this is the road I was trying to get to before,” Ward’s tired voice caused Fitz to jump.

“So… are we going towards the bus then?” Fitz asked tentatively.

Ward wrinkled his nose, looking up at the night sky. “I’m not sure, I’ve gotten so turned around in all the running…”

Fitz nodded.  He had no idea where they were or what direction they were going in. 

“Wait.” Ward abruptly stopped, causing Fitz to collapse to the ground.  Ward helped him back up instantly, only to hold a finger to his mouth.

All he could do was stand there, leaning against Ward.  He didn’t hear anything, not at first, and was about to shove Ward’s hand away when a distant sound began to slither into his recognition. 

The sound of wheels on gravel.

Ward must have realized what it was at the same moment Fitz did, because he immediately tensed up and began steering Fitz off the side of the road.

“But-” Fitz tried to protest, only to find he had no voice in him. 

Ward got the message, and let him pause for a second, watching as Fitz gasped for breath.  Eventually he was able to continue.

“What if it’s Coulson?” He asked.

He was hoping to see some sort of hope on Ward’s face, but instead all he got was the same hard stare he had been receiving all night.

“It isn’t.” Ward said firmly.

Fitz began to feel annoyed. How could Ward be so sure that it wasn’t the rest of the team? After all, he had just as much information as Fitz did.

The car was drawing closer, but Fitz didn’t care. He pushed back from Ward and fixed him with his best glare.

“But it could be.” He insisted. Ward took a deep breath and looked at the ground.

“No, Fitz, it isn’t.” He said, just as calmly as before.  That only made Fitz more annoyed.

“How do you know?!” He asked loudly, causing Ward to look up in alarm, “You just said you don’t know where we are, maybe we’re almost back to the bus!”

“Because, Fitz, they ar-” Ward stopped and jerked his head to the right. Fitz followed his gaze and felt his breath catch in his throat.  The glow of headlights was rapidly growing through the trees, and it was almost upon them.

Ward didn’t finish his thought. He grabbed Fitz, much more roughly this time, and pushed them both into the trees, collapsing to the forest floor just as the spot they had been standing on was illuminated by light.

They were each on their sides, with Fitz’s back against Ward’s chest.  Ward placed his arm over Fitz and pulled him back into him. He was breathing quickly, his eyes locked on the road.

A car pulled to a stop in front of them, and a door opened. 

“Shit.” Ward mumbled, his hand on his gun.

They had been spotted.


	6. Illumination

Ward’s heart dropped as the tires slowed to a stop on the road in front of him.  A door opened shortly after, and footsteps began crunching towards him.  Silently cursing the situation, he tightened his grip on his gun and stood up.  If he couldn’t avoid them all together at least he could try to distract them from Fitz.

It took several moments for his eyes to adjust to the bright light that was streaming through the forest, sending a thousand shadows crawling along the underbrush.   Silhouetted against the light was a single person, their arms planted firmly on their hips.  Although he couldn’t see them, or their car, he knew it wasn’t one of his team.

“Well well, what do we have here?”  A woman’s voice in a thick accent floated out to him.  He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his thumb.

“Just passing through.” He replied, trying his best to keep his voice calm. 

She laughed in response and gave a wave of her arm.  The lights immediately dimmed to low beams, and Ward blinked to adjust. 

Standing in front of him was a woman, at least forty, wearing faded jeans and a too-large black parka.  Behind her was a huge green military jeep - how it was able to fit on the road he had no idea - and sitting inside were two men, though neither seemed to be paying him any attention. 

“And where are you passing through to?” She asked lightly, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

Ward hesitated, scrambling to come up with an excuse despite knowing it was useless. “My cabin, I camp out here sometimes.”

It sounded like a lie even to him.

She fixed her gaze on him, sweeping her eyes up and down the length of his body, pausing briefly on his blood soaked sleeve. “I see. And I suppose you camp alone?”

 _She’s seen the others_ , he thought, pressing his lips together in a hard line.

He shifted slightly to his left, trying his best to catch a glimpse into the rest of her Jeep.  In the back was something big and square, covered with a cloth.  The cloth didn’t completely cover what was underneath, however, and he could make out a wooden crate.  There was a soft blue glow barely visible between the planks of wood.

Ward’s heart pounded.  _They have the artifact_.

Right here in front of him, the entire reason this mission had begun in the first place.  But there was no way he could take on three of them _and_ protect Fitz, not in his condition. As much as it pained him, he knew he would have to let it go.

“I like the solitude.” He said, more harshly than he intended.

“As do I.” She said, her hand moving to her side.  Ward braced himself for what was about to happen.  “Which is why I’m afraid we must say good-bye.”

Before he could react the high beams switched back on, blinding him.  He immediately dropped to the ground as the air where he had just been was filled with bullets.  Without waiting he shoved himself behind the nearest tree, wincing as its bark became shredded with gunfire.  As carefully as possible he looked back to the spot he had fallen with Fitz, only to find it empty.

 _Good,_ he thought, _run Fitz, and don’t look back_.

He knew Fitz was unlikely to make it far alone, but at least he had a chance.  With one last breath Ward dove from behind the tree and came up on one knee, firing his gun blindly into the back of the car.  When his clip was empty he ducked behind the back of the car, just as a man’s voice yelped in pain, and he knew he’d hit at least one. 

The woman yelled something in a strange language, and the other man yelled in return.  Ward frantically reloaded his gun, finishing just in time to see the shadow of a man loom above him.  He rolled out from his hiding spot and fired behind him, and a sickening _thunk_ greeted him.  He turned just in time to see the man collapse in the back of the jeep, blood streaming from his head. 

That left only her.  He shifted over behind a tree, and scanned the road.  There was no sign of the woman anywhere. 

 _Damn_ , _she must have had the same idea as me._ He thought to himself, trying to figure out the best way to find her. 

“I think that is enough now.” Her voice called out from across the road.  Ward didn’t bother to respond, he charged towards it head on, his finger twitching on the trigger.

And then he stopped, almost tripping over himself in the process.

She was standing in front of him between two trees.  One arm was holding the gun, the other was holding up Fitz, who was paler than the moon.   The woman gestured with her gun towards Fitz, and Ward immediately lowered his own. 

“Good.” She rasped, her tongue sliding over her lips, “You are not stupid after all.”

“Let him go,” Ward responded, his voice sounding more desperate than he wanted. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Let him go? And why should I do that, after you killed my brothers?” 

Somebody made a choking sound, and Ward had a feeling it came from him.  “What do you want from me, then?”

“Nothing.” She said firmly, “I am going to make my exit, and take my… ‘cargo’ with me.”

Ward began to acquiesce, but was stopped by a voice in his head.

_If she goes, you fail the mission._

“And if I don’t agree to that?” He asked, his voice raw.

She narrowed her eyes at him and tightened her grip on Fitz. “Then I won’t be the only one losing somebody I care about tonight.”

His heart stopped.  Something wet and warm began to well up in the corners of his eyes, and he clenched his hands into tight fists.

“Ward don’t listen to her, she-” Fitz was abruptly cut off with a loud smack, but Ward barely noticed.

His vision was swimming, his ears were ringing.  The world around him seemed to spin, and he was sure that at any moment he would topple over.

_So this is it, then? I either finish my mission, or I save Fitz._

“Well?” She sounded like she was a mile away. “Do we have an understanding?”

Ward looked at her, his breaths coming quick.  He knew what he had to do, there was only one way he could make it out of this and be able to live with himself.

“We do.”

She smiled. “Good. You won’t mind putting your gun down, then.”

Ward barely registered his body moving as he crouched down and laid his gun in the dirt. 

“Excellent.” She murmured, “I’m glad to see you are reasonable after all.”

She began walking backwards towards the jeep, dragging Fitz along with her.

“This is where we say goodbye, then.”

She began to climb into the jeep, but cried out in pain.  Fitz fell from her arm in a crumpled heap, and the woman howled in pain.  Ward’s body had stopped responding, all he could do was stare in horror.

A large bite mark was gushing blood on her arm, her gun having dropped to the ground, forgotten.

“Ward! Your gun!” Fitz shrieked, snapping Ward back to his senses. 

Within seconds his gun was back in his hands, but not before the woman’s gun was back in hers.  The air was filled with the popping of gunshots as bullets tore into his body.  He struggled to aim his own at her, pointing it right between her terrified eyes. 

 _All it takes is one shot_.

She cursed loudly when she had emptied her gun, and frantically started reloading.  It took all of his effort to stay up right; his entire body was numb with pain.  Out of the corner of his vision he saw Fitz clambering into the back of the jeep, well out of his line of fire. 

She was almost done reloading; he knew he didn’t have long.  Just as one last bullet bit into him, he took the shot.

The night went silent as the woman collapsed to the ground, her eyes dull and lifeless. 

Ward stared at her body, and felt a sense of relief seep through his body between the pain.  He looked around, trying to find Fitz, and found him crouching in the back of the jeep, a black device pressed to his ear and his mouth moving frantically.

 _At least Fitz made it. At least I did that much right_. He thought.

His knees gave out, and he slumped to the ground.  Darkness began to blur the edges of his vision, and he could no longer hear anything. 

Fitz looked up at him, his eyes wide in horror. 

 _Don’t be scared_ , Ward thought, _You’re safe now_. 

And then he stopped thinking at all.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

Fitz stared down at the table in front of him.  All he needed was a four of hearts and he would win, _finally_.  It seemed that no matter how hard he tried he could never win against Skye.  Tentatively he placed his hand on top of the deck of cards, wishing with all his might that his luck would finally come through.

“Fitz!” Simmons’ trill voice caused him to jump.  He looked up to find her standing in the doorway, a cheerful smile on her face. 

“What is it? I’m about to win here.” He said haughtily.

“Yeah, that’s what you think.” Skye teased from across the table, and he fixed her with a glare.

Simmons seemed unfazed by either of them. “He’s beginning to wake up.  I just thought you might want to…” She trailed off, sharing a knowing look with Skye.

Fitz’s heart skipped a beat, and he immediately shoved away from the table, all thoughts of the game forgotten.  He quickly pushed his way out of the room, not noticing the giggle that passed between Skye and Simmons. 

He stumbled his way through the plane and before he knew it he was standing outside Ward’s bunk.  His breaths were coming quick and shallow now, despite the short distance.  With a shaking hand he knocked on the door.

“Yeah?” Ward’s gravelly voice responded from within.  Fitz tried to ignore the flutter in his chest as he opened the door and slipped inside.

Ward was propped up against the end of his bed, his bare body bound in multiple bandages. 

“I was hoping it would be you.” He said, a smile beginning to creep across his face. 

Tears threatened to spill from Fitz’s eyes, and he took a seat next to Ward on the bed.

“I-” He choked on his words, “I thought you were dead.” 

Ward’s gaze softened, and he placed his hand on Fitz’s cheek, caressing him gently.  “But I didn’t, thanks to you. You saved me _and_ you finished the mission. You’re so much more than you think.”

Fitz shook his head, the tears falling freely now.  “No, I’m not. _You_ saved _me._ Over and over. All I did was get you shot.”

“That’s not true. If it hadn't been for you Coulson and the others would have never known where we were.  The artifact would have escaped, and I would have died.” He murmured, his hand sliding around Fitz’s back. “And even if it was true, it would be worth it for you, Leo.”

Fitz looked up just as Ward pulled him down into a kiss. Despite his body being on fire he felt more at ease than he had in a very long time.  He closed his eyes and placed his hands on the back of Ward’s head, letting himself be swept away in the moment.

Before he knew it Ward was pulling away, and he whimpered in protest. 

“It’s okay, Leo, I’m here.” He murmured into his ear.

“I- I don’t-” Fitz didn’t know what he was trying to say. “Ward, I-”

“Leo, it’s okay.” Ward said, pulling back.

“What?” 

“You can say it.”

“Say what?” Fitz asked, hoping he hadn't offended him.  But Ward merely smiled, and leaned in close again.

“Say my name.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd it's finally done!! Yay for sappy endings!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this. I hope you enjoyed it, I know I certainly enjoyed writing it. :)


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